Chapter Text
The Delta Kappa Whatever frat house is already full of people when Alex follows Liam inside; dancing, standing in clusters of conversation, making out in every corner.
Alex would have rather stayed at their shared apartment tonight. It’s not that he doesn’t like parties, he does; but he feels out of place here, surrounded by vaguely familiar faces he’s never spoken to, following Liam around even though he knows Liam only dragged him along because it was the third Friday in a row that Alex had insisted he had to study when they both knew he was weeks ahead in all his classes.
So maybe Alex has a tendency to stress until he wears himself out. Doesn’t everyone? It’s college, his Junior year at that, and he has big goals. Goals that he turns into plans and plans that clash with his social life sometimes. He’d rather not think about how Liam is looking forward to seeing his maybe-boyfriend while he’s looking forward to getting a burrito the size of his head for lunch tomorrow.
Still, his friend had thrown a shirt at his face and ensured him that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. At Alex’s protest, Liam had raised his eyebrows and said, “Tell me when was the last time you talked to someone in person outside of class that wasn’t a barista, and I’ll leave you alone.” Alex had opened his mouth but then Liam had added, “I don’t count. Neither does your sister.”
So, he’s here.
They’re finishing their first drinks when Liam spots Pez – the whole reason they’re at the party – standing alone. Alex vaguely wonders why his friend Henry is not with him. Pez is holding a beer in one hand and a solo cup in the other with a swirly pink straw that, judging by the lack of them anywhere else, he has brought here himself. “Liam, Alexander!” He shouts when they are close enough. Under the colorful lights in the party, his skin is given a purple hue that matches his dyed hair.
Alex finds himself grinning back. He's only talked to him once or twice, but he kinda really likes Pez by default: he’s funny and extravagant in a way that is fucking charming, and tonight he's already making Alex feel welcome despite being fully aware that what Pez and Liam both came here for doesn’t involve his presence.
“Is that for me?” Liam asks with a grin, nodding towards the beer.
Pez tips it towards him. “Why not? It was supposed to be for my mate Henry, but alas, that might not happen if he doesn't manage to come back to me," he says, shrugging, as Liam takes the offered beer and takes a sip.
“Why wouldn't he?” Alex asks. He’s aware of Henry, of course he is. How could he not, when he and Pez together are impossible to miss? Pez is as loud and vibrant as a visual can get, and Henry is infuriatingly tall and looks like he’s just stepped out of a magazine ad about hair conditioner or expensive cologne or tailored blazers for rich people - Alex is pretty sure the whole University has checked him out.
Not that he has. He’s just observant, and Henry’s head sticks out of crowds.
Alex remembers the first time he saw him in History class his Freshman year, sitting in the back, aloof. Alex was eager to show that he was prepared but Henry would always beat him to it, his arm raised almost casually, as if he wouldn't have minded not being called. Alex would have to strain his goddamn neck turning around to look at him when he spoke with that accent, always disgustingly eloquent and intelligent and calm in a way that both infuriated Alex and made him want to reach out and be friends with the guy, to talk to him, to prove himself as well. But Henry would always disappear right as class ended.
There was a time when Henry’s mere presence had irked him, but it had fizzled out into something like curiosity. A puzzle he couldn’t solve.
Pez pulls him out of his mental tangent. “Seems like my liege was caught in a situation where he’d rather the ground swallow him whole.” He nods towards a spot to the side, and Alex follows his gaze.
He spots Henry easily – his tall head of tousled blond hair like a lighthouse – talking to a girl who is touching her dark braid with one hand and has the other on his arm. Henry does look uncomfortable. It’s bizarre. The girl is pretty, and she’s looking at him as if she wants to undress him via the hand that’s touching him. Alex can’t blame her; it's ridiculous. Henry is the only person he’s ever seen wearing a fucking striped sweater at a college party, as if he’s the nerdy love interest in a romance novel with a library setting. He’s half expecting him to whip out a pair of prescription glasses.
Pez goes on. “I’m gone for two seconds to get us drinks and someone steals him away. I was going to get him, but then I saw you two.”
The thing is, Alex is impulsive. He either overthinks or he goes all in without hesitation, and tonight his drink was strong enough to tip him strongly towards the second option. He’s also not dumb. He sees the way Liam and Pez act around each other, knows they’re both too nice to ever ignore him but that they’d rather dance alone.
So, he does what any good friend would and decides to remove himself so they can flirt all they want. “I’m gonna save him,” he says, making Liam frown in confusion and Pez grin as if he’s fully on board with whatever Alex is planning to do.
Planning is an overstatement. It’s a half-baked thought at best, but one he has no reason not to put to action. He sets down his empty cup and grabs two beers from the table acting as a makeshift bar, lifts them towards the two confused members of his audience, and grins widely. “Have fun,” he tells them before turning to make his way to where the girl and Henry are standing.
She’s still holding onto his forearm. His expression looks perfectly polite, but he’s subtly leaning away, and Alex can see the contours of the tendons on his hand with how hard he’s flexing his fingers. He’s tense.
Whatever happens, this is going to be fun.
“H, baby, there you are!” He shouts over the music as he reaches them, his grin wide. It’s not even fake, this is much more exciting than the thought of spending all night feeling like a third wheel. This is a challenge.
The girl turns to him in confusion, her grip on Henry slackening. Alex takes the chance to duck and slip smoothly underneath Henry’s still outstretched arm. He lifts himself so that it’s around his shoulders and leans in for what surely looks like a kiss to the spot where Henry's jaw meets his neck.
“Pez said you needed saving,” he whispers against his ear. Henry smells good, Alex notices, like fresh laundry and nice cologne and something else; and the green and blue striped sweater is soft where it’s grazing Alex’s neck. The thought crosses his mind that he understands why the girl wasn’t letting go of Henry's arm. “Play along,” he mumbles.
He has a front row ticket to the way Henry’s strong jaw flexes, tense, but he doesn't push Alex away. He’s probably relieved to be given an out.
“I got us the beers but I couldn’t find you!” Alex says, louder now, pulling back slightly. He lifts one of the bottles and Henry looks down at it, his blue eyes almost neon because of the party lights as they travel from Alex’s face to his hand and back again. Alex feels like he’s being scanned by an X-Ray machine of sorts. He doesn’t hate it, though.
Henry’s expression morphs into a smile so smoothly that Alex feels it in his chest. “Thank you, love,” he says as he takes the beer from Alex. The term of endearment sounds softer with his accent. Natural. Alex is impressed by how swiftly he plays along.
Because he’s determined to live up to his reputation of being a little shit, Alex only grins wider as he turns to the girl. “And who’s this?” he asks.
She lifts the hand that had once been on Henry in a small awkward wave. She looks a bit stunned, as if still processing the turn of events. “Oh, um. Hi, I’m Priah,” she says.
“Hey, Priah. I’m Alex, Henry’s boyfriend. Sorry I just barged in.” He leans against Henry’s chest for good measure. It’s solid and broad beneath the softness of the sweater, and Alex’s pleasantly buzzed mind wonders if the guy works out or if it’s another unfair advantage of his Prince Charming genes. Probably the latter. Rude.
“Hey,” Priah says, clearly a bit put off. She looks up towards Henry. “Sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t single. You’re just so nice to me in class, I thought…” she trails off.
“It’s alright,” Henry says kindly. Alex can see he doesn’t know how else to respond, though, can quite literally feel the tension on his shoulders; he also wants to spare her more awkwardness. Getting rejected is already uncomfortable enough to then have to carry a conversation, and she seems genuinely nice.
He looks up at Henry’s face – they’re so close that he has to tilt his head up to do it, his eyes level with Henry’s chin – and tugs lightly at the fabric of his jumper. “Do you mind stepping outside with me, baby?” he asks. He sees the way Henry swallows at the question. They’re just so close, Alex can’t not notice him. “I’m kinda dizzy, I could use some fresh air.”
Henry agrees, so Alex gives Priah a cheerful “bye!” and steps away from Henry’s warmth, grabbing his hand instead and tugging him towards the front door. They pass by a shape that looks pretty much like Liam and Pez making out in a corner, which feels like confirmation that his recklessness was the right choice.
It’s when they’re at the front steps of the house and the fresh air hits him that Alex realises he does feel better outside. He sits down on a step, leaning against the stone railing and looking up at Henry. He looks even taller from this angle. Alex rolls his eyes.
“Sit down with me. Can’t go back yet or Priah would know we lied.”
“You’re right,” Henry says. He runs a hand through his hair and it somehow looks even better after. If Alex were to do that, his hand would get stuck, probably. He needs a haircut.
Henry sits beside him, stretching out his mile-long legs and crossing them at his ankles. Alex half expects him to remain quiet, but then he throws his head back and lets out a low groan instead.
“Fuck,” he says eloquently, making Alex snort. He hadn’t expected a foul mouth from Prince Charming himself. It’s intriguing. Henry opens an eye and looks at him without sitting up, scrunching his nose a little. “Thanks for that. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“Yeah, no shit, that was pretty obvious,” Alex laughs, and is delighted to see Henry join him. It sounds genuine. It might be the first time he’s heard Henry laugh, actually. It’s a good look on him. Maybe Alex was wrong about Henry’s aloofness. He takes a sip of his beer. He’s curious, so he lets himself keep talking. “Pez said you were in need of rescue and I didn’t wanna be a third wheel to him and Liam. It honestly wasn’t a hard choice to play fake dating with you. I’d even dare to call it an upgrade on my night.”
Henry laughs again, sitting up and taking a sip of his own beer. He shifts his body to face Alex properly. “I get it. Pez dragged me here because he thought it was necessary that I get out of our flat on a Friday night for a change. My plan had been to stay in with a book and order curry, so believe me when I say that you giving me an excuse to get out of both third wheeling and unwanted flirting has been an upgrade for me as well.”
Alex finds himself grinning widely. It’s nice, talking to someone who gets it. He tips his bottle towards Henry’s. “Glad I could be of service, Fake Boyfriend,” he teases. He gets another laugh in response; the sound ripples through Alex pleasantly even though they aren’t touching. “I wanna know something though.”
Henry hums. “Shoot.”
“Why was it unwanted?” Alex blurts out. “She seemed nice, and you knew her from class, right? Is she secretly a terrible person?”
Henry blinks at him slowly. Alex wonders if he’s just drunk and taking time to process the question, but then he frowns slightly. “No, she’s perfectly pleasant, she’s just… not my type.”
“Why? She’s pretty. What the fuck is your type? Is it that specific?” Alex presses. Now that he thinks of it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Henry with a girlfriend. He’s sure he has a waitlist of people wanting to date him.
It’s Henry’s turn to snort. “Christ, you’re as thick as it gets,” he says, in a tone that feels like an inside joke more than a jab at him. “I’m gay, Alex. I thought you knew that. It's not a secret.”
“Oh. Oh.” It makes sense. Maybe he is thick.
He thinks of the way Henry had looked at him back inside, the way he had responded to Alex’s touch so easily. He’s suddenly brought back to that History class they'd shared, how Henry always spoke up to make pointed – and very eloquent – comments about queer history and its erasure. Alex used to jot down the names and facts Henry brought up to research them once he got back to his dorm. He remembers staying up to read about them, curious, driven to know more. Back then it simply felt like a confirmation that Henry was intelligent and well read; that he, like Alex, enjoyed knowledge and wasn't afraid to correct the professor when the lesson was clearly given from a privileged lens. Alex respected that. He wasn’t ignorant, he wouldn’t assume someone was gay simply because they knew queer history and were passionate.
Alex had been interested too, despite being straight.
Because he is straight. He’s always liked girls. He’s straight and Henry’s sipping his beer and his throat is exposed, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows; and Alex is staring and Henry is staring back like he likes it, and Alex should let him know that he’s not flirting, that he didn’t mean to; it’s the perfect moment after Henry’s statement.
He opens his mouth to tell him. Just a casual “cool, I’m straight.”
“Do you wanna get out of here?” is what comes out instead.